Stillwater Cove: A Short Story

It didn’t take long. Once dressed we called for food and ate our fill. We gobbled it up in record time, even though the food tasted overly salted. Apparently, the ship had slipped into the harbor just after dawn, the light had chased just enough of the shadows away to safely navigate. From the tiny window I saw half-a-dozen warships docked on the far side of walled harbor, their canvas sails all tidy and furled against their spars.

Alone, in the distance I notice a colourless, lifeless piece of foam that rocks over the waves, tussling to stay afloat. It is wanting attention, it is battling to get noticed by the teenagers that once spent their summer days plunging into the water.Instead, they briskly walk by and get a rapid glimpse of what summer looked like and a reminder of the hot blazing days that are gone.Instead of the groups of teens, the only recognition it gets now is from the birds that

“Hey man, take it easy we are gonna get home!” Peyton exclaimed and raised his voice. “I’m just not sure how.”

During the night, John was sleeping and unexpectedly he heard a noise coming from the living room, he woke up and after going to the hallway, noticed that his mother was there, drugged again.

“Some say the goblin introduced darkness and was cursed to wander through the Forbidden Forest forever.”

She fell forward, catching herself on the porcelain sink and bowed her head, shoulders shaking. The room began feeling smaller and smaller, the walls seem to enclose on Alice. She stood there, sunken eyes staring back at her before her hand swung open the petite cabinet door to reveal what she wanted most. The little bottle of pills called to her before she frantically unscrewed the lid with her shaky hands and took it to her mouth. She let the antidepressants slide down her throat. The weight of everything seemed to press down on Alice’s shoulders as she struggled to stay on her feet. The poor girl finally collapsed on the cold tiled floor, and as much as she tried to hold it in, the pain came out like an uproar from her throat in the form of a silent scream. A tress of silky blonde, honey hair fell from her chignon as a single lock gently caressed the soft translucent skin of her cheeks. The deep mysterious oceans that filled her large, luminous eyes let tiny pearl-shaped tears roll down her cheeks. Miniature molecules of

Sarah is realizing that she was wrong and had to tell Dr. Warren how she was feeling. She tried to tell him in Boston but he was in a hurry to get to Watertown. Not even a month later she too went to Watertown with her family and which to get there was a challenge. British officers were harassing Grandmother Revere, telling her to move. Grandmother Revere refused to and the British officer was going to forcefully move her, until a roal friend for the king told the officer to let them pass. They were in Watertown, Dr. Warren was sent to the hill for battle. He was killed on the hill. Sarah and her family were devastated of the news, and Sarah's father had to identify him.

I was affected more by the second dose than the first. I lost my sense of balance and my eyelids became heavy. I was inundated with a sense of unease. As charismatic as Bobby could be, this home had a cold and isolating feel about it. He and the others became increasingly intoxicated as the night wore on. It was unflattering. Bobby, I learned, had a coldness within him amongst more intimate company. He would ridicule and belittle Christina and his friends. Christina drank aggressively, and began mixing the formula into her whiskey surreptitiously, which caused me great discomfort. I sat silently while they told gossip about local residents; inheritances that had been squandered, suspected affairs, even speculation about unsolved murders.

Renee and Luc loved the waves rocking the boat. During the hours fishing, the waves’ motion eased the pain of their lives. The sound of the wave against the boat combined with the movement of their lines enabled them to see the beauty of the day.

The waves, the beautiful, calming waves. Their resonance, their slow rolling and crashing, their white caps cresting over and plunging back into the water fully display the beauty and majesty of creation from the shoreline. And their connection to countless parts of science is amazing. However, as I have found in the past few years, the beauty of the waves isn’t necessarily in looking at them, but in being beneath them. Being beneath them, you feel a slow rocking, the pressure of the waves above you, slowly pulling you closer to shore, then pushing you back out as you hear them crest over and plunge back into the ocean. Here, underneath the waves in the ocean, is a breathless reality, something amazing, where you can explore another life around you to find or discover something. Although much of the ocean floor is covered in sand, shells and living creatures are eminent throughout it, you only have to find them. It was not my first time to Florida. In fact, I had been a year before with my best friend when I had first swam in the oceans, yet this was my first time exploring them. When my family had announced we were going to Florida that Christmas break, it was not the news I had hoped to hear. All year long I was excited for Christmas break at home, the blustering snow and being able to snuggle up inside while staring out into the white blanket. Even more so, I had been thrilled to spend the two weeks hanging out with the love of my life, yet, as December 21st rolled around, I discovered myself boarding my families behemoth of a van to travel a thousand miles south. Although the prospect of the trip did not thrill me, it was intriguing to see where we were going and what we were doing. Last time I had travelled to Florida, it was over spring break in the panhandle of Florida; however, this time, we were travelling all the way to the keys, the southern-most point of the United States without travelling to Hawaii. I can say I am thankful we did not stay in Key West, though my family did have our fair share of stumbling across nude beaches while touring Key West. My parents had picked a small key called Fiesta Key. It was simply a campground and sadly played country music all day at the only spot that had wifi.

She kept the curtains drawn in her room, long enough that a sheet of dust covered them. If not for the television’s keen glare, her room would be as dark as sleep. There was no light bulb hanging from the ceiling just a fitting where one may have been. Slouched in her bed she was with the light of the TV smacking her face revealing tangles of sand-coloured hair which fell over furrows and dark smudges which hung heavily below her eyes. Her belly slouched as well but against her thighs and her hips. Occasionally she would mull over how things ended up like this, but the thoughts would scare her, terrify her to the point where she’d need to smoke a cigarette and if they did not assuage her, she’d take the pills. Just focus on the TV Julia she’d order herself. Magazines, dirty plates and burn marks scattered themselves densely across the carpet and upon the walls were stained brown with nicotine and tar.

Seasickness is a terminology describing an illness that caused by an effect of motion, experienced by an individual particularly at sea. Seasickness can be a serious problem for sailors. Not only does the sick person feel terrible and become incapacitated, and therefore a problem too for others on a shorthanded boat, but the dehydration that may result from repeated vomiting can become a medical issue. About 90% of people will experience seasickness or motion sickness at some point in their lives. If you're new to sailing, or have ever experienced nausea or dizziness on a boat, it's worthwhile to take steps early to prevent seasickness. Once seasickness occurs, it's too late to do much more than cope with it as best you can.

A buzzer went off and the door slowly slid open. The room beyond it was a disaster; a sea of papers flooded the desks, tools were misplaced all around the room. John peared into the room and snickered.On the other side of the room a metal door remained cracked open with a shimmer of light escaping through.He traversed his way through the mess to the door. He opened it to see a frail man lying on a bed of papers fast asleep.

Once we arrived to the ten person boat floating back and forth next to the dock, we were helped up onto the boat. As soon as I set my foot down my legs began to wobble. “Sea legs” my dad said as he watched me stumble and collapse into the stiff cushioned chair.

So there I was, looking over the horizon from that pristine Puerto Rican beach. I could smell the salt water, feel the sand slipping between my toes, and hear the ocean beckoning for me. I swear that I could just sit there admiring the view all day long, but I had better things to do than daydream the morning away. I slipped off my sand-covered sandals, took off my shirt, and headed into the clear, blue water. As I waded deeper into the surf, I couldn’t help but notice the mesmerizing patterns of the waves: the way they formed ever so beautifully from a vast distance, becoming stronger and larger as they advanced toward the island. I could spot that famous seventh wave (the biggest one of the wave series-hurtling toward me), but I knew too much about the waves for them to scare me. By the time the wave was twice my height from thirty feet away, it lost its structure and fell unceremoniously forward. A slight tug of white water almost pulled my feet out from under me. I recovered and began walking towards my pile of clothes, with my back feeling the warmth of the rising sun. I stuffed my legs into my soothingly dry jeans and stared once more at the water thinking, “this is where I belong, this is where I am meant to be.”